


My Old Writings

by A_Jar_Of_Indigo_Ravioli



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: ??? is titles what it is??? like patton is kindness instead of morality, Alcohol, Bad Parenting, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Destruction, Innuendo, Multi, Parties, The Dark Sides - Freeform, The Mindscape, Violence, Yelling, minor homophobia, the sides are younger, the sides have different titles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24760126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Jar_Of_Indigo_Ravioli/pseuds/A_Jar_Of_Indigo_Ravioli
Summary: the stuff that makes me want to cringe really hard but i fear i haven't the energy to rewrite it. good for a boredom read. i pulled them off of wattpad (yes, cringe, moving on). it's nice to see improvement. tags added as necessary.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. i can't separate your sins

**Author's Note:**

> roman is??? kinda unsymp in this???? and patton doesn't like janus, and remus and janus aren't really nice-- just like. so yall know.

"Look at me," Virgil, curled up on one end of the couch, watched the Duke twirl around the Dark Commons (which technically didn't make it the commons, but eh) in his brother's sash and sword. "I'm the prissy Prince, oh look at meeeeeee, look at me," Deceit elected to ignore him and spread out on the rest of the couch, scrolling through some conspiracy website or another. Virgil stared as the Duke drove the sword through a lamp, then kept swinging it around, lamp still attached.

"I'm the prince," Remus pressed a hand to his chest in mock arrogance. "I'm the stupidest do-gooding faker in the history of the woooorld, oh catch me Kindness, I think I see a spider," Remus swooned into Deceits lap. The snakey teenager shoved him off, and the Duke fell on his butt.

"Well, Kindness is the one who's afraid of spiders," Virgil mumbled, trying not to make Remus mad enough to drive the sword through his head. Even if injuries in the mindscape didn't last long, they were actually shorter-term the more "fatal" they were, but it hurt. But Remus had a nasty habit of abusing that to stab people. Technically, Remus would stab people at any point, whether he was angry or not, but keeping him happy usually kept things out of your skull. "And won't Princey be mad when he learns you stole his—?"

"Princey'll be fiiiiine," Remus drawled out, stabbing the sword into a picture of aunt Patty on the wall, so the sword was starting to look like a shish kebab, with a lamp and the picture on it. "Honestly, the light sides get so addicted to their stuff. Coz that's all it is: stuff!" Virgil didn't bother to remind him that it was a dark side thing too: he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Deceit without his hat, and Virgil was very protective of his hoodie. But Remus didn't have anything like that, and Deceit was the only person who could get Remus to stop doing anything, and currently he was focused on the laptop screen. So Virgil kept quiet as Remus destroyed a table and lope off a corner of the TV ("It'll come back" Remus shrugged off). Until—

"REMUS!" The voice practically echoed through the commons. Virgil had heard some pretty spooky voices in his time with the Dark Sides, but none of them made him scared as whatever that was.

Prince Creativity dive tackled Remus to the ground and started punching him. "I'VE" smack "TOLD YOU" smack "NOT" smack "TO STEAL" smack "MY STUFF!" Virgil watched in horror as Roman actually punched Remus in the face. Not just a tap, full force.

"Princeyprinceyprinceyprinceyprincey--" a new person came barreling in. Virgil tensed up at first, but loosened when he realized it was just Kindness, the dad friend of the group-- or at least the Light Sides, but at the very least he usually had a smile for Virgil. Kindness was slightly more preoccupied with keeping the prince from attacking the duke while he got up groaning and spitting something that was either blood or bloody teeth. He had a black eye, another bruise on his jaw, and he was rubbing the side of his head from where he hit the floor, but still beaming like the asylum escapee he was on the inside.

Kindness grabbed Princey by the arm, swept up the sword and sash that had come off in the scuffle, and started hissing at Princey as the pair made their way towards the door. Virgil caught whispers as they went past, Roman squirming. "He took my--" "No excuse, you should--" "MY BROTHER--"

Kindness pushed Princey through the door as Remus hollered "I KNOW WHAT PRINCEY'S NAME IS!"

Virgil sat up a little straighter. Names were news. Names were things you hid. They were the passwords to your rooms and to your things. It was no surprise the twins knew each others' names, but Remus spilling it to three other people at once was a line Virgil never expected him to cross. But it wasn't like he didn't want to know.

Princey whirled around with fire in his eyes before Kindness shoved him through the door and closed it on the Prince's face, as Remus started yelling "IT'S ROMAN! ROMAN ROMAN ROMAN ROMANROMANROMAN--"

This was too much for too little time for Virgil. Kindness had his back pressed against the door, trying to keep the Prince-- Roman-- from demolishing the door and then likely the dark commons, but he could still hear pounding against it, and Remus was basically screeching "ROMANROMANROMAN," and it still made Virgil sick to look at his face, bruised even though it'd clean up in a few minutes, and then he realized Deceit was standing up and--

"SHUT UP!" Dee and Kindness yelled at the same time. Virgil flinched, but the pounding on the door stopped and the constant chant of "Roman" disappeared. Deceit started talking to Remus in the low, dark voice that meant you were in Big Trouble, and Kindness opened the door to do the same to Roman. Virgil looked back and forth between them, and realized how similar they were acting right now: squirming and grumpy.

"We're going to talk more in the commons," Kindness growled at Roman, handing him his stuff. "For now, go to your room." Roman grabbed his sword, pulled on his sash in one swoop, and tramped down the hallway, slamming the door to his room. Virgil cringed at the noise, but Kindness turned, and smiled at him. "Hey, Paranoia. Sorry about that. Are you okay? Assuming Princey isn't grounded, we're all having a movie night later, if you want to come."

Deceit had paused in his scolding of Remus to glare at Kindness, then Virgil. Remus stared wide-eyed with him.

Virgil sunk deeper into his hoodie. Talking to the light sides wasn't strictly taboo, but actually hanging out was most definitely. "Uh-- well um, I think I might-- uh, go to bed kind of early tonight, and-- well, I'm like, tired..?" He could see Deceit scowling just out of the corner of his eye.

Kindness eyes flicked to Deceit, then back to Virgil with a sympathetic smile. I get it. "Well, just, if you want to, our doors are always open."

"Thanks-- Thank you, Kindness."

"Oh!" Kindness's eyes lit up. "I forgot to tell you. My name's Morality now." for a moment his smile dropped, and he glared at Deceit. "Because sometimes I don't feel like being nice." Before Virgil could translate that, Kind-- Morality was beaming again as he waved goodbye and shut the door.

The moment Morality left, Deceit was towering over Virgil, scowling as Remus grinned in the background like a maniac, like some sort of cartoonish henchman. "I w̸̩̆a̷̽͑ń̵̥͇͊t̴̄ you to talk to Kindness again," He growled, and Virgil shrunk.

Remus twirled in the background, singing "Noia's in trouble~" Between Remus's prophecy and Deceit clearly not having a good day at the minute, Virgil wanted nothing more than to just disappear.


	2. your hands are pretty,,,, teRRIBLE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> remciet. remy is here. innuendo. this hurt to see again

"Are you a mic pack, 'cuz i wanna put you in my pants," Remy purred and sat on the kitchen counter.

Virgil and Logan both internally groaned. Roman had nicknamed these interaction between Remy and Deceit "flirt fights," and no matter how many times they were told, they'd refuse to do anywhere but the kitchen. Ever.

Deceit, searching the fridge, turned around and smirked at Remy. " I absolutely L̷O̴V̶E̵ your shirt. Take it off."

Virgil got off the kitchen table and attempted to shove Remy off the counter. "Can you guys shut the hell up, I swear to god these headphones are supposed to be soundproof, and I can hear your stupid voices through them!" He sunk out, grumbling something about "PDAssholes."

Logan sighed as the bantering went on. "Those are some pretty t̵̢e̷̞̊r̴͎̐ṟ̴̽i̸̹͝b̸͈̓l̶̻̑ę̶ hands you have there," Dee was right in front of Remy now, arms around the sunglasses-clad side. Visually, it was quite uncomfortable. "I wonder what they'd look like--"

"Hey Lolo?" Patton popped in, scanning the kitchen. "Did you see--"

Logan dropped Ten Little Indians and jumped out of his seat. "WRAPPED AROUND THE GREATEST BOOK OF ALL TIME, THE MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS, WOULD YOU LIKE TO READ IT?!"

\--------------

Patton had no clue what was happening.

He'd come in, assuming Logan (who seemed to be the master of finding things in the mindscape) knew where Mr. Fantabulous ( the sixth of 24 stuffed cats, this one named by Roman) had ran off to, and found him yelling about something while Remy and Deceit laughed. "Logan, are... you okay?"

Logan, who was out of breath, bright red, and attempting to pick up his book with dignity. "Yes-- yes Patton, I am perfectly fine." He straightened up, book in hand, and gave his best attempt at a smile. "Now what were you looking for?"


	3. we'll be outlaws // partners in crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> remceit. some caps. homophobia, trans/enbyphobia, alcohol, making out, vaguely abusive parents, this fic is weird man i'm ngl. i honestly wish i could have written it better the first time because i mighta rewritten it. I wrote this before we knew the whole janus thing so deceit's name is ethan.

"YOU'RE JUST LOOKING FOR ATTENTION, YOU KNOW THAT?!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" A young man stormed out of the house and disappeared around the side.

"REMUS HYPNOS DORMIR, YOU GET BACK HERE OR—" A woman poked her head out the door. "Aaaand he's gone. What are we going to do with that boy," She muttered to no one but herself as she went back indoors.

Remy ran like the devil was behind him, stomping through the alley, jumping over the fence right to the baseball field, then going around to the back of the bleachers. "Hey bitch."

Ethan Lye shook another can of paint and stayed focused on his masterpiece behind the bleachers. "Bitch yourself. Pronouns?"

"He him." Remy sat down in the dirt and started scrolling through his phone. "Lets see what's on the menu today. Hm, fourteen texts from dear old mom. Three new youtube updates, ooh, a fuckload of likes on insta," He started scrolling through as Ethan sprayed a final streak through his art and stood back to admire it.

Remy looked up at the new piece. "Talk Shit, Get Hit." He read off then turned towards Ethan. "Lame, gurl."

"Bitch. Like you could do better. Where do you wanna go?"

"I could do better if I wanted to." Remy got up from the dirt as Ethan packed up his cans. "Any parties or shit?"

"Sure you could." This was how most of their conversations worked, layered on top of each other. "The Foster Dawgs might have something going on at like nineish."

"Like a having a party—" Ethan pulled Remy onto his feet— "Or doing a gig?"

"A party, because that is totally what amateur bands do, Remy. What do you think." The pair were up on their feet and starting to wander. "Dear old dad being lovely again, I presume."

"Off fucking other women and making money, like always. I don't even know what the hoe does to make the money he does. Whatever it is, I don't wanna do it. See me in ten years in tiny apartment in LA with a job as a makeup artist for celebrities. I'll make my own damn money, babe. You wanna kill time?"

\-----

The next evening was the same thing. Only this time, Mr. Dormir got involved.

"I WON'T HAVE MY SON WEARING MAKEUP, YOU PANSY."

"I'M NOT A MAN, AND I'M NOT YOUR SON."

"I'M GOING TO START SENDING YOU TO THOSE COUNSELORS AGAIN."

"FINE BY ME!" The same stomp out. Different route, this time to the back of the mall, where "Here, Queer, and Not Ready To Disappear" was in the process of being painted on.

"Babe, you're being fuckin' gay."

"That's why I'm dating you, bitch."

\-------

"IF YOU LEAVE AGAIN, I'LL LOCK ALL THE WINDOWS AND DOORS!"

"GREAT!"

The smack of footsteps against the pavement all the way to the newly-repainted city hall. Ethan was just adding to the new paint job: "ALIENS believe in YOU"

"Cool art, gurl."

"You're totally not being a suck-up because you need me to do something. Pronouns?"

"She her. And FYI, I'm sleeping over at your house, so maybe don't be shitty."

Remy woke up in Ethan's arms.

\------

"YOU'RE A FAILURE!"

"BITCH I KNEW!"

Same routine. Same slap of battered sneakers against the pavement up to the skate park.

"Hey ass— oh, fuck no." Ethan dropped the can he was using and went over to Remy, whose face was screwed up as tears leaked down her cheeks. "What the hell did he say?"

"Um," Remy swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself. "First off, he— he found all my makeup and— and he threw it away, and I'm having a she/her day so— so that sucks."

"Hell no," Ethan wrapped his arms, albeit a little awkwardly, around Remy's shoulders, and Remy had to giggle through the tears. Her boyfriend tried so hard, it was adorable. "But I mean, it's not like you bought that shit with your own damn money."

The anger dripping from his voice made something swell up in Remy, and she pulled her arms out from between them and pulled Ethan in even closer. "So... what are we doing tonight?"

"Well, Eliot's having a party downtown."

\--

The party seemed to be an "I'm sorry" from the universe directly to Remy. She laughed, got drunk, went into a total laughing fir for no apparent reason at Patton Morales' joke about the pair being Bonnie and Clyde, and by eleven, was sitting in Ethan's lap making out with him. The party raged on upstairs, music still pounding on while downstairs, the beer bottles thrummed with the bass. Everyone was boozed up.

Then the music stopped, and people started yelling. Ethan and Remy pulled apart as someone smashed a bottle and yelled "SCATTER!"

People started running in every direction, and Ethan started to pull Remy towards the back door. "You have to get out of here!"

"Me?!" Remy nearly screeched and shook her hand out of her boyfriend's grip. "What about you, huh?!"

"Yes, me, the delinquent graffiti artist with deadbeat parents is a bigger deal than a fucking Dormir. If you get caught you're gonna get locked in your house until you're 21!"

"We can both get out of here!" Remy is getting tugged into the stream of people disappearing out the back door.

"They have to catch someone! And I don't want it to be you!" He turns around and runs back upstairs towards the yelling cops, giving Remy little choice but to disappear out the back door.

She knocks at the door to get home for the first time in forever. Her parents don't even yell at her, seemingly too surprised to do anything as she goes straight to bed and cries.

\-------

When she— he wakes up again, he doesn't bother to go with his normal routine. He sits on his bed in the same clothes he was wearing last night, scrolling through old posts with Ethan in them and constantly refreshing everything to see if there's a location for him and Ethan to meet up. At noon he finally comes downstairs, and his mom checks him for fever. Nada. He's just intent on wasting away.

This goes on for three days.

The rule that they've made is that Ethan isn't allowed to go over to Remy's house for fear of his parents, and Remy isn't allowed to go over to Ethan's house without invitation, for fear of his drunk—or worse, hungover— parents. Ethan doesn't even have a phone, despite Remy's many attempts to get him one ("Gurl, Dad's got cash for days, it's nothing." "Yes, because a piece of technology that monitors my every move is something great. You do you Rem, but I'm good.") so they can only decide on the next location when they're together.

But on the fourth day, Remy gets a text.

**Theater Hoe:** meet me at the playground. Or don't.   
**Theater Hoe:** -Ethan on Ro's phone

\--------

Remy is out of there before his parents can react, still in a "please don't make me do stuff" shirt and sweatpants. The only thing he grabbed was his shoes and sunglasses ("Light sensitivity is a bitch, doll."). Battered sandals slapping there way out, faster than he's ever run, phone still in hand, and there's Ethan.

Remy runs straight up, beaming like an idiot... then punches him in the chest.

"OW, WHAT THE HELL?!"

"YOU FUCKING DICK!" Remy screams right back. "Do you know how fucking scared I was, with your self-righteous bullshit?! They have to catch someone, my ASS, you MORON, you could have CALLED ME, where have you been?!"

Ethan just looks offended. "Yes, because your parents are extremely tolerant of you acting like the hella queer teenager you are. If you got caught with me, even more shit woulda gone down."

Remy's anger melts out of him at his boyfriend's indignant look, and he presses forward again to bury his face in the graffiti artist's chest— almost a head butt, with all the force that went behind it, but still a hug. Ethan wraps his arms around Remy.

"You over-dramatic piece of shit."

"Same, gurl."


	4. #PunchAKaren2020 (Remceit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy Dormir’s mom had drilled one fact into his head since he was very small: half of your personality is how you treat anyone “below” you. That meant custodians, assistants, and in this case, coffee shop workers.

Remy Dormir’s mom had drilled one fact into his head since he was very small: half of your personality is how you treat anyone “below” you. That meant custodians, assistants, and in this case, coffee shop workers.

“Hi Remy-lious!” the bubbly blonde behind the starbies counter greeted him. Remy waved and smiled back as the young man-- Patton-- grabbed a cup and scribbled Remy’s name on it. “The usual?”

“You know it babe. Whatever seasonal there is-- “

“In the largest size we have,” Patton finished with a smile. “Sit down and we’ll have it ready ASAP.”

“You know it babe!” Remy turned around and went to his usual spot, the back corner table. Five minutes later J.D. Foster, or Janus, came in. He and Remy had struck up a friendship over time, with both of them being regulars. Janus came for the quarter-priced reject cookies he got from his brother Patton, and Remy for his coffee fix. 

“Sup, snake-man.” Remy didn’t even glance up from his phone, seeing Janus in his peripheral looming above.

“Everything, caffeinated.” Janus shoved two out of three cookies in his mouth at the same time, crunching obnoxiously. The man worked at the pet store next door, mostly for the snakes kept in the back, and was a surprising lot like them, between the vitiligo he likened to scales, the tendency to hiss, and the creepily cool ability to unhinge his jaw to shove as much food as possible in them. (his record was 3 donuts and a cake pop.) 

Both of them turned their heads when the door opened again, expecting Roman Prince, the third member of their starbies-regulars squad, but were very disappointed when-- oh god. Remy grimaced. 

The White Suburban Mom Squad, as Janus called them, or Those Bitches Who Bitch About Everything to Remy, had entered the cafe. Poor Patton had to deal with four over complicated orders at once while they all yelled at him, and Remy had seen their leader, Clara Flores mom-of-three, send back her coffee because it had “too much whipped cream.” Girl, what?! Remy had wanted to scream. Patton didn’t deserve that, Patton was the greatest cinnamon roll in history. Patton was also currently overloaded with orders.

“And don’t you put too much whipped cream on again!” Mrs Flores whipped her head around and clicked back in six inch heels to her table, where her lady-friends were all gossiping. Patton sighed and got to the orders while Remy and Janus rolled their eyes at each other and both went to listen in on the table.

“How are Helga and Brian, Mary?” Remy managed to choke on his coffee in the most subtle way possible. Who in the name of Jerry Baldwin would name their child HELGA?!

“Oh, Brian’s been just a DARLING lately. But all Helga wants to do is hang out at the pet store. You know the one next door?” the moms all nodded in agreement. Remy turned to Janus, who smiles and nods. “Therese,” he said under his breath. “It’s her middle name.” Remy officially has a new respect for the little girl he’s seen hanging around. Whenever Remy’d visit the pet store at the end of the day for his ride home, she’d always be there, either hanging with the birds or holding a snake while Janus cleaned out its terrarium.

He tuned back in. “...the man who works there,” Mary continued. “He looks like a snake. Have you seen his face?” Remy’s jaw drops, and he turns back to Janus, who is refusing to look him in the eye. “And Helga is getting so sarcastic, I swear, she picks it up from him. And she tried to join the school’s rainbow club. The GAY club! I think it’s his fault.” The moms nod in agreement again. Janus is staring into his napkin and clutching at his beanie. “I bet he’s gay and he did this. I really need to get Marty to get her something better to do after school, what if she becomes a… you know,” She whispers at volume 200. 

Remy had had enough of her bullshit. “Hey! Yo!” Patton looks up, and sweats when he realizes Remy was trying to signal to the moms. He waves frantic hands at Remy, but it’s too late: Mary and Clara have turned around. Remy’s got a panicking, wildly resisting Janus’s arm in a vise grip and is currently dragging him over to The Table. All of the other women are behind their allies, waiting to see what happens. Patton disappeared into the back room.

“Hello,” Clara is scanning him up and down disgustedly, taking in his sunglass covered eyes, overlarge bomber jacket, and friend who’s doing his best to hide behind his back. “Can we help you?”

“Mary,” He ignored her and went straight for his target. “Gurl, lemme just say, I've been coming to this coffee shop for, like, two years now? And your crew are some of the MOST obnoxious people I’ve ever met.” This is met with gasps, but he can feel Janus straightening up behind his back. He plows on.

“ Janus Dominic Foster is, indeed, a ‘you know,’ and he is the greatest mother-fucking you-know I’ve ever had the honor of meeting. Not that your straight white middle-aged ass would know! Or any of you for that matter!” He waves an arm at the rest of the table. Clara’s jaw has dropped. “You decide, hey, look, I’m privileged and I contribute to the bake sales with my store bought brownies, so HELL, let’s bitch about people while they’re WITHIN earshot! And don’t even get me started on how you treat PATTON-- ” 

“That is enough!” Clara had stood straight up and started grabbing her stuff. “Ladies, let’s go.” She and her clique stomped out in a swirl of expensive fabric and clicking heels.

Remy stood there heaving until Janus tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. He slowly turned around to face his shocked friend. “Was that too much? Sorry bout dragging you here gurl, I just didn’t want them dragging you.”

“That was… awful.” Janus put on his absolute straightest face. “Cruel, vicious, unprovoked… and fucking FLAWLESS.” An uncharacteristic grin broke over his features and he grasped Remy’s hand’s in his. “They fuckin’ deserved that! With all the shit they gave Patton and you just fuckin’ ripped into them!” Remy couldn’t help but snicker as his friend went into a dramatic retelling of his exploits. “You were just ‘bitch bitch bitch’ and they were all ‘ugh lets gtfo’ and I was just standing there but YEAH! Jesus CHRIST I have been waiting SO LONG FOR THAT DON’T MESS WITH MY BOYFRIEND SHITHEADS!” He unlatched one of his hands from Remy’s as he waved a fist at the door.

Remy paused. “Wait-- what?”

Both of them were suddenly very aware of the fact they still had their fingers laced from when Janus had grabbed them during his retelling. Janus pulled away his hand, suddenly very very red. “I-- uh, sorry...”

Remy sighed. “Babe, apologizing is not a good look on you. C’mon--” He wrapped a hand around the back of Janus’s head and pulled him in, crushing their lips together.  
He could feel Janus stifle a gasp for a moment before leaning into it, warm and soft and willing. But it only lasted a moment before the cheerful bell on the door broke them apart.

Tall, dramatic Roman was cocking an eyebrow at two of his best friends. “Oh, when did thiiiis happen?” He asked with a smirk. That expression fell away in half a second, replaced by a broader, more mischievous grin. “Tell me EVERYTHING, you gay nerds. I need it ALL.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> go punch a karen


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some sleepceit w patton nd deceit ((this was before we knew his name lmao)) being twinsies

“Heyyyyyy babe,” the drama queen Remy Dormir yelled through the door. “Lemme in!!”

Dee Foster sighed and got the door to be greeted by his boyfriend with a coffee in one hand (pumpkin spice obviously) and a small box in the other. Remy walked straight in past him, half-threw the box on the coffee table, and plopped on the couch, propping his sneakers up on the armrest. “Dee, you would not be-LIEVE the day I’ve had.” 

Dee sighed. “Sure. Walk into my house and put your shoes all over my furniture. How kind.”

“Whoops.” Remy pulled his shoes off to throw them towards the door, nearly hitting Dee. “Oh, and your brother got you a thing-” he stretched to reach the box next to him before leaning back again to finish his coffee.

Dee rolled his eyes at his boyfriend before pulling the box open, revealing a note and something that looked like a wooden pole. He tugged the note out from under it, which was covered in his twin brother Patton’s cramped, messy handwriting.

_ Hey Dee! I’d give this to you myself, but Remy says you’re busy- _

Dee looked up at Remy, who had pulled out his phone. Based on the rapid tapping, he was either texting one-handedly or playing cookie clicker. “I’m busy?”

“I dunno, I just figured that it’s easier to say that you won’t come and then it’ll be a nice surprise if you can, than saying you can and then you can’t.”

Dee shrugged and kept reading.

_ -so I’m having him give it to you!!!! Dad sent me someone and I thoght you’d like to see them!!! I bet you can rememember who’s in here!!!!!! :^) _

Despite three spelling mistakes, Dee smiled and pulled out what had been first mistaken for a wooden pole. It was actually a little wooden snake made of interlocking pieces, so it could actually slither when you moved it. The eyes were painted green, and a five year old’s hand had painted yellow diamonds across his back. “Intricate.”

“What now?” Remy looked up from his phone at a startled Dee. The Starbies addict had been so quiet Dee had almost forgotten he was there.

“Well you totally didn’t just give me a heart attack. And it’s nothing.” Dee pushed the toy back in the box and turned slightly to face Remy.

“Dee, I once caught you passed out in front of Stonewall Inn with full drag makeup on. And you were sleeping on a piece of pizza. We have no secrets here. Spill,” He got up and walked towards Dee with one hand on his heart and another in the air. “I swear on my Starbies, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“Promise? You won’t judge?”

“Dee, I’m swearing on my Starbies. I’m gonna be suffering more than you if I break this. Now gimme!” He grabbed the box and pulled out the snake. “Seriously? This was it? The way Patton was treating the box, ya woulda thought it was gold…” He twirled it around. “S’ cute though. You painted it?”

“No, the space aliens did,” Dee said sarcastically. Remy just cocked an eyebrow and continued to turn it. 


End file.
